


Molasses

by shitkai



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitkai/pseuds/shitkai
Summary: The first step of love is to let those you love perfectly be themselves.





	Molasses

**Author's Note:**

> While reading over this I was so embarrassed at myself for this bullshit flowery Shakespeare writing, I’m sorry if it’s bad. Also characterization whom’s’t?? sorry if it’s ooc (I hope not, I love Madaleo so much I’d hate it if I messed up something; blease tell me if I do tho)

The striped wallpaper chips ever so slightly on the walls of his kitchen, his tall frame bent over to deepen the search inside of his relevantly tiny refrigerator.

It's the weekend— Saturday afternoon to be exact, and Madara Mikejima is home alone. His sister is with her friends for the weekend, father working and mother traveling like he himself had once.

The thought of _'that time'_ tip-toes on the edge of his consciousness, making Madara zone out in his thoughts as he grabs the mayonnaise from the back of his fridge.

He sits the jar unceremoniously onto the countertop, pickles sliced on the side as he prepares to put his sandwich together.

And just as he opens the tart condiment to delve in his butter knife, there is a ring at his doorbell.

When Madara twists the lock and knob on his door, he swings it open as if willingly inviting any guest beseeching his presence. Leo is there at the door, red hair, casual outfit and all. He's smiling, pale skin warmer looking as he bathes in the ethereal light of the afternoon sun.

Madara looks upon Leo's bright smile with one of his own. For that moment, there is only them, the gust of wind that blows Leo's hair, and the birds chirping in tandem with the sound of the rustling trees.

"What brings you here, Leo-San?"

Leo purses his lips, pressing the pad of his index finger onto them. He's actually thinking, and that alone makes Madara burst from laughter. His chuckles reverberate within his chest, the sound aiding the new round of comfortable silence between them.

Leo himself doesn't seem that happy by Madara's laughter, because he's soon pounding his fist into the plain of the other male's chest, hitting with an intentionally hard punch.

"Oi! Mikejimama! Stop laughing you bastard!"

And Madara's laugh dies, his body shifting slightly to the side to allow his dear friend inside,"Come in, Leo-San…"

Leo tilts his chin up with a triumphant _'hmph!'_ noise, his haughty expression melting into something kind and beautiful when he steps onto the threshold of Madara's home.

"I smell pickles," Leo says, nose scrunched in distain,"They stink, what has Mama been eating?!"

Madara's closing the door behind the shorter male, rolling his shoulders as he takes a few easy strides past Leo and makes his way towards the kitchen. "Pickles, obviously," he snorts, listening to Leo start to take his shoes off at the entryway.

He stops him,"You don't need to do that, Leo-San."

To which Leo diligently responds without looking up from his laces,"Good manners."

Madara flushes just barely, his maternal instincts triggered by his Leo's politeness; _and they say chivalry is dead._

He sighs, dreamily, scratching the back of his neck and watching as Leo's lissome figure approaches and ultimately passes Madara from where he's stuck in front of the kitchen.

" _Aaahhh_ , Leo-San is so considerate~ it makes me want to hug—"

"Hey… Mama… M'not a kid, OK?!" He's staring pointedly at Madara, giving him the slightest of growls before he makes himself comfortable in a chair by the dining table.

"Sorry, Sorry~" The brunette says, smiling goofily as he goes into the kitchen to finish making his sandwiches.

Madara has his large frame faced away from Leo as he pulls out some more bread to make the other a sandwich as well.

Being with Leo is like watching old cassette tapes. Through his soft, stringy red hair, Madara can see the sunlight. He can feel the heat emanating off of the other boy in waves.

It makes Madara relieved that Leo can still smile so effortlessly after the War, after what happened to him in the midst of it.

After one endless conversation comes the next, and out of the window, Madara can see the sun sitting gallantly on the horizon. The afternoon has passed with the time, and just as Madara fixes on asking Leo to stay the night, he's getting a text.

Emerald orbs skim over what's written on his phone; _left to right, left to right,_ is the way they go as he reads the message in silence. Brief hesitation is apparent on his face, but it's replaced by a smile as he looks up at the brunette.

"Sorry Mama! I gotta go now."

Doing things with Leo feels timeless, and time itself feels like ice cream pouring from a machine— _slow, satisfactory._

Yet this, Madara watching Leo leave, feels all too fast, like one second he's right in front of him, and the next second he's out of the door.

Madara looks into his cup of tea, his reflection bronzed in the brown fluid. Without his hair braided back like usual, he looks unkept like Jin— that makes him laugh.

* * *

The next day is Sunday, and it's drizzling.

The brunette wakes up, teal eyes searching his mirror when he enters the bathroom. His father is at work again, ensuing the same predicament as the day before. Minus Leo of course.

Madara's brushing his unruly locks to the best of his ability, combing through tangles and separating his hair to braid it back like usual.

After brushing his teeth and checking his phone, Madara decides to work out, his joints popping as he stretches beforehand.

His Sunday goes by in a flurry after that. He briefly remembered eating a bagel and a banana, calling his mom, and then rehearsing for his next live show.

Now he's sitting on his couch watching some blockbuster movie and making a shopping list for all of the things he recalls that he's out of.

It's 3 pm when the doorbell rings, and when Madara opens it it's none other than Leo.

"Mama! I'm back, are you busy?"

He looks ecstatic; it rubs off on Madara in the best way, his face brightening at the sight of the smiley redhead. He worries about why Leo left so suddenly the day before, but he doesn't want to ruin the mood,"Just watching a movie, wanna come in Leo-San?"

 

Time is like syrup once more with Leo right next to him. There is plenty of room on the couch, and yet the other is nestled right against Madara's broad shoulder, the two of them pressed together at the right end.

There isn't a window in the living area, but from the sunlight filtering through his front door, Madara can tell that it isn't raining anymore.

"Hey," the brunette says, sparing Leo a side glance,"If there's something going on… you can tell me you know that, right Leo-San?"

Leo's nose crinkles in distaste, solid green eyes rolling before landing on Madara,"I love Mama, but he can be so overbearing sometimes."

Which apparently, is Leo for _'I don't want to talk about it.'_

Madara looks at Leo for a long while, eyes focused on those red lashes that frames the other's eyes so well. Leo looks back, and for one second Madara swears he's in love. Here, with the two of them, the brunette thinks he can get lost in everything that is positively Leo.

A notification sounds for a text, of which Leo reads with distain. Then like sand, Leo slips through his fingers again.

* * *

   
When Madara catches Leo again, it's the next day, Monday, right before the bell rings.

They exchange greetings, Madara giving Leo one of his notorious hair ruffles before they depart.

The 3A classroom was set up so that everyone was seated in alphabetical order; 4 desks in the first row, with 3 desks in between them in the second row.

With Eichi being last, he sat behind Shu and Madara— much to their mutual displeasure. Luckily though, he wasn't in school that day, and he probably wouldn't be for the rest of the week. _'Sickness'_ Keito explained to Akiomi loud enough for the class to equally hear and _not_ care about.

With the man in front of the class rambling about the fundamentals of performing and the basics of being an idol, Madara makes sport of not paying attention.

He's looking out of the window, teal eyes watching the sunlight beam down and filter through the trees. There's speckles of light on the ground in the midst of the shade the trees bring, and Madara's watching the fountain that sits smack dab in the middle of the walkway outside.

He thinks of Leo as he spares long glances over to the rocky pavement down below. The distance between him and the ground outside, Madara thinks, represents the distance between him and his best friend.

_Leo-San… if only I knew what it was you were thinking._

 

The brunette finds his legs moving as fast as his mind, the spikes of his cleats digging into the the endless circle of the matte dirt trail. He does a few good laps before his legs are pulsating, the warmth of pain making his chest tight. He claps Arashi on the shoulder, and in return, Arashi gives Madara a gleaming smile.

“Do that more.” Madara says, giving the blond one of his own benevolent smolders. He takes pride in the pinkish color Arashi tints as he walks to the locker room.

_His kouhai are too cute._

The shower is where Madara loosens his taught joints, fingers splayed out over his shoulder as he holds it, firm, rolling his bicep under the drum of cold water.

 

* * *

 

Everything that happened next, including that wink he gave Adonis in the locker room, goes by in a collective blur. When he jogs home, the sun is warm on the back of the cityscape, cars passing him swiftly in the opposite direction. _The cars,_ Madara thinks, _feel like life without Leo._

Fast, yet endless; fleeting, yet ever-so present.

That is, until he sees Leo looking down at him from the elevation of the brunette’s porch.

The wind blows Leo’s hair in slow motion, his striking green eyes colored yellow in the glow of the setting sun. His freckled face is swathed in sunlight, gaze tender yet intent on Madara as he looks down at him.

Everything is in slow motion once more, including the way Leo’s lips curl into a smile.

 _“Mikejimama…!?”_ He sounds a bit awestruck, even though it’s Madara’s house he’s standing by.

Madara looks at the redhead for awhile, wordlessly, his legs propelling him up the stairs and onto the porch near Leo.

His smile turns into an indefinite scowl, a pale fist brought square into the soft cushion of Madara’s built chest,”Where were you?!”

The brunette stifles a laugh, but chuckles escapes him despite his efforts. “Track club,” he’s stepping a bit closer, but Leo doesn’t move away,”And what are you doing here, Leo-San?”

“I’m here to see you, _duh_ , idiot Mama.” He says, like Leo literally couldn’t have been anywhere else. Still, regardless of the tone, it makes Madara feel nice.

“ _Awh_ were you waiting for Mama?” Madara gushes; to which Leo responds with a deep guttural growl.

Madara hums, the pleasant warmth sloshing in his stomach materializing into a sensation that could only be butterflies. Leo is eccentric, but so is Madara, and the first step of love is to let those you love perfectly be themselves.

He’s taking a few strides towards the door, time almost stopping altogether when they lock eyes again.

 

* * *

 

Madara opens the door to his room, stretching and sitting down his uniform dress shoes. He’s kicking off the sneakers he jogged home in, the backpack on his back being peeled off and thrown onto the soft, lush blue of his carpet.

His tie is the next thing to go, and the brunette can feel a strong emerald gaze on him as he practically undresses. His motions falter as he looks back towards Leo, who admittedly, and without a shroud of remorse, is staring right at him.

Madara forces a smile and stops, because he doesn’t exactly know what kind of face it is that Leo’s currently making.

As soon as he makes himself comfortable on the duvet of his own bed, Leo’s phone rings with the connotations of a text being sent. The ringtone— as it plays— resounds slow in the molasses Madara and Leo are in when they’re together.

And just like his own does, the redhead’s face falls when he opens the text.

Leo is climbing out of the water; he’s leaving the lagged, sluggish moment, and is about to stick his head out for air when he stands up to leave.

But this time, Madara clambers up after him.

As if trying to pull him into the drowning abyss, the brunette, with all of his strength, grabs Leo. “Is something wrong?” He asks, his voice just for their ears only.

He asks, although he needs not to, because he knows the response will be just as ambiguous as the person dishing it. Leo scoffs without ill intent,”Mama has to stop spoiling me at some point.…!”

His statement is punctuated with a smile, but through the light of the setting sun in his window, Madara can see the truth etched into the features of Leo’s beautiful freckled face. If only he could decipher it, for it is in a language he now not knows.

Everything about Madara is firm now, including the way he ushers Leo back onto the bed and asks the redhead what’s _actually_ going on.

Leo sits and looks down, wringing his spindly pianist fingers together,"That Ruka-Tan has been telling me to come home early…"

Time truly stops as Madara registers this information.

It doesn’t really process until he’s laughing,"That's not so bad, " he says, almost incredulously.

“It isn't,” Leo says despite looking absolutely crestfallen,"but I wanna spend time with Mikejimama,"

Butterflies erupt in the brunette’s stomach for the umpteenth time, the warmth they leave pleasant yet involuntary,”Why don’t you be an honest big brother and tell Ruka-Chan how you feel, and where you are…” he’s breathing out through his nose,”I’m sure she knows you’re safe with me.”

Leo takes his advice, fingers tight around his cracked phone screen as he waits for her reply.

The jingle that plays when Leo gets his anticipated text makes Madara tense up in attentiveness. He watches as Leo opts for looking at the text straight from his home screen, the expression on his face melting into something akin to pure glee.

“She says ok… and _‘Hi’_ …” Leo’s outward cheese, dissolves a bit into a calm satisfactory smile down at his phone. The glow from his florescent screen catches on the roundness of the redhead’s cheeks, highlights his button nose, and simply makes all of his features look artificially bright for the _(blessed)_ entirety of 5 seconds.

The next minute or so is spent in comfortably uncomfortable silence, Leo shifting closer to Madara on the bed and resting his head on Madara’s bicep.

He’s gorgeous, even from this angle; and even though Leo isn’t tall enough to rest on his shoulder, Madara finds the warmth of the other against his arm comforting.

Madara tries to still his beating heart when those emerald eyes catch him staring, and despite being nervous, despite being worried, he doesn’t look away.  
  
They shift, and with the natural flow of things, Madara wraps his arm around Leo. He’s blushing rouge as the redhead consistently presses himself against the brunette, head up as he looks at him with subtle docility.

_“Mama… a kiss.”_

Madara looks down at where Leo’s sinewy hands are resting upon his strong thigh— His touch is hot, even through the fabric of his uniform pants. At least that’s what Madara thinks.

In truth, Leo can feel the brunette burning up.

Madara leans forward, and in that moment, he gives Leo’s lips a chaste kiss. And yet, one isn’t enough for the redhead.

He’s so close that the larger male can see the thin, fiery hairs on his brow bone, adorning his paled freckled face; of which becomes more rosy with each press of their bodies— of their lips.

“Leo-San–-“ Madara says, face warming in tune with Leo’s fingers that tangle themselves in the other’s matted chocolate locks.

“Don’t stop, ‘Kay?” Leo says, eyes closed before suddenly opening,”Unless you wanna do _more_ than just kiss?” Leo’s smirk showcases his canines, a brilliant look on his face to match his brilliant personality. Madara smiles a soft smile unconsciously.

“Whatever Leo-San wants…” his deep voice comes out in a husky sigh of words that makes the redhead blush, shock distorting his features momentarily.

 _“Mmn,”_ Leo hums, his hands shifting to rest on each of Madara’s thighs. He leans on the brunette to do this, green eyes disappearing behind veiny lids as he kisses Madara again.

A lot is happening after that.

Tongue is a new thing for Madara, he’s never actually done this before; considering Leo has been his only person of interest, well, besides Kanata for those few years.

Leo takes the lead despite only being slightly less terrible at French kissing; and Madara wonders if he’s ever done this with anyone else before. He doesn’t like that thought though.

Leo’s spreading Madara’s thighs, and a brief, involuntary _‘Oh shit okay’_ flickers through the midst of his mind.

Leo disconnects their lips in pursuit of something else; Madara has yet to know what that is, but he’s got a few ideas.

“Don’t rush, Leo-San.”

“Don’t baby me, Mama.”

Leo’s licking the taste of Madara off of his lips, giving a lazy smile despite his stern comment seconds ago. Undoing his zipper, the redhead sits in between the Brunette’s legs, eyes focused like he’s composing… _or something._

Silence rings loud in his ears somehow, Leo’s fingers wrapping themselves sound around the base of Madara’s dick.

To be honest, he didn’t have any set expectations for Madara’s… Madara; but now that Leo’s seen it, and is about to put his mouth on it, he can surely say that it looks like it belongs to Madara.

It fits his wide shoulders and broad back and tall, sculpted legs and— this train of thought is getting weird, and the redhead finally realizes that his focus just zeroed in on the girth of Madara’s cock.

 _“Hey—“_ because speaking makes the awkward tension even more awkward, Madara shuts himself up.

Leo luckily doesn’t catch it, and looks up at Madara through his lashes, giving another ambiguous look.

Leo collects saliva in his hot mouth, and a shuddering mess Madara is reduced to as the redhead ungraciously lets his spit fall from his open mouth down the length of the brunette’s cock. _It’s like a porno_ Madara thinks, because _of course_ he’s seen one of those.

Those pale fingers, slightly tanned at the knuckles, feel like the personification of ecstasy. Madara has to mentally take two steps back, his body feeling as if it’s centered while his head stretches above the clouds.

Leo gets his lips around the head of Madara’s cock, and _that’s_ when he juts forward, hands hovering above where Leo’s got his head nestled in between his bare legs.

A part of him thinks he should lay back, and he does, which is followed by instant regret. Now he has a _better_ view of Leo sucking his dick— because there was never a bad one to begin with.

Leo’s hand unfurls the foreskin from the tip of his dick like he’s unwrapping a gift, and _wow_ — that was a terrible thing to think.

“You’re huge.” Leo says, as quiet as his boisterous self can be _(which is moderately loud)._

“It’s really making me depressed, stop eating so much spinach,” This is followed by an untimely lick from the base to the tip. Madara can’t really control his voice when that happens, and _‘pickles’_ is said after his indefinite moan.

“What?”

“I…eat pickles, Leo-San.”

Leo’s smiling with his teeth, before suddenly jerking Madara off with all of the power his lithe fingers can muster. The ones good with pencils (and crayons), and now, dicks apparently.

The brunette’s carding his hands through that soft red hair, a carnal growl erupting from the deepest pit of his vocal chords. Leo looks at the other the whole time, the rusty orange of his thin hair getting caught in the webbing of Madara’s fingers.

No words are exchanged in the aftermath of Madara’s orgasm. He doesn’t even know when it hits definitely because of Leo’s eyes, his _eyes_ that draw Madara in like a moth to a flame. All he’s left with is the euphoric numbness in his powerful legs, and the view of cloudy film of cum strewn across random places on the redhead.

“Leo-San,” Madara tilts his head back, Adam’s apple visibly bobbing in his throat as he stares at the ceiling,“That was good.…”

An abnormally genuine and enthusiastic thumbs up is given in response. Followed by a soft smile that begins to grace Madara’s lips while he watches Leo clean the excess from his face.

And then it settles in:

_Leo just sucked his dick._

For free, sober, conscious, sane— as… sane as Leo can possibly be after the War. But the thing that makes Madara’s chest swell the most is the fact that he did it on his own free will.

 _“Maaamaa,”_ Leo drawls, sitting upright,”Another kiss~”

And Madara kisses him, a touch of lips that resounds all of his feelings. He can taste himself on Leo’s tongue, the reminiscence of his bare skin, the residual taste of his cum. It’s actually kind of gross, but he gets to kiss Leo, so it’s worth it.

Leo’s giving him this satisfied grin after they pull apart, his features submerged in the darkness the evening brings with the setting sun.

“What?”

“This means we’re dating now, huh?”

The brunette stifles a laugh, his chuckle getting caught in his throat and manifesting itself into a deep snort.

“Yeah, _bestie_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Madara making fun of Leo’s “Thanks bestie! love you!” quote from Concerto.  
> Also I hope you all had a Happy Halloween, busters.
> 
> As always my Twitter is @ChillPedal! Talk to me！！


End file.
